


A Voice of Iron

by VerdiWithin



Series: Talisman [17]
Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Dorks in Love, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gaslighting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Justice, Revenge, Rise of the Dread Queen, Slut Shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-30 04:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21422272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdiWithin/pseuds/VerdiWithin
Summary: Persephone and Hades are ready to start thinking about a future together, but first Persephone needs to face the past.
Relationships: Eros/Psyche (Lore Olympus), Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus), Hera/Zeus (Lore Olympus)
Series: Talisman [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1497371
Comments: 48
Kudos: 280





	A Voice of Iron

**Author's Note:**

> Previously in this series: 
> 
> Hades threw a giant party to celebrate the completion of Elysium, but Persephone found out about what he did to the photographer. They had a huge argument about it and leave one another extremely angry. The Fates finally sent the tape and Hades learned that he proposed to Persephone while he was drunk. Persephone discovered that Thanatos and some accomplices were planning to overthrow Hades using an army of shades. She summoned Hades and together they stopped the traitors. Hades learned that Persephone can raise the dead. In a flashback, Hermes witnessed Kore raising a bunch of dead mortals. Persephone quit TGOEM, and Persephone and Hades worked out their issues and are newly together.

I head into the office late Sunday morning. It’s not so unusual for me to work on a weekend. What is unusual is my present mood. I’m elated. Ecstatic. Overjoyed! I feel like singing. Or dancing. Is it dancing, what people do when they’re happy? Whatever, I’ll do both. As I exit the elevator I look around carefully. There’s no one here. What the hell. I sing to the empty corridor:

_ Have you anything to say to me, _  
_ Won't you tell me where my love can be? _  
_ Is there a meadow in the mist _  
_ Where someone's waiting to be kissed? _  
_ Skylark, have you seen a valley green with spring _  
_ Where my heart can go a-journeying _  
_ Over the shadows and the rain to a blossom-covered lane? _

I dance a few steps, too. Not bad. The old man’s got some life in him yet.

I enter my office, still humming, and look around with fresh eyes. It’s so plain and dark. The place needs some color. Maybe some pictures. I’d like to have some pictures of Persephone. Something by the waterfall!

I take out my phone and send a text. _ Thinking about you. Miss you! XX _

I think back on yesterday. After Persephone and I made out for hours, snuggled and giggled and fed each other picnic remains and stole more honey-scented kisses, we sat together on a rock by the waterfall pool. I rolled up my trousers and took off my shoes and socks. Kore took off her shoes too and we soaked our feet and talked and held hands. I can’t really remember what we said. It’s not important, I guess. 

I took her home late last night, both of us reluctant to let go. She seems happy living with Eros and Psyche, and certainly they’re a lot more laid-back than Artemis. This morning Persephone is attending the Olympus arts festival. It’s the sort of thing I try to avoid at all costs, but if she’d asked me, I would have gone with her. She mentioned something about helping Psyche, so I guess they had previous plans.  _ I _ have plans to see her later. Maybe I should make a reservation? Someplace nice that I haven’t taken anyone else to. I try to brainstorm ideas.

Yesterday was the best day of my life. I grin, just realizing that.

***

I’m attempting to get some work done. Not very well, my mind keeps wandering for some reason. I take Persephone’s stone, Ione’s Eye, from my pocket and set it by my laptop. From time to time I glance at it and smile.

I pick up the stack of items that have been accumulating in my in-tray. I was awfully morose before Persephone forgave me, and my productivity has taken a big hit. I was being a big baby, I guess. Sulking over Persephone. Crushing on Kore. Pining for Proserpina. I grin idiotically. Damn, I've got it  _ bad _ .

I sort through the folders. It seems Persephone’s productivity has not been similarly diminished. There’s a bunch of folders from her: a shade training reform proposal, a new draft of the Elysium reward plan, preliminary results on the shade census. I set these aside to save for last, and start reading a report for a new ad campaign for the Pomegranate XS.

A little while later Hecate sails into my office. “Ah,” she says. “I wondered if you’d be in today. Can you spare a few minutes to discuss the budget audit?”

“Sure, why not? Want some coffee?”

She accepts and I pour for both of us. I bring the cups over to my desk, humming again as I go.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Hecate observes.

“You are so right!” I agree.

“You want to tell me what this is about?”

I smile. “It’s about Persephone.”

“I see! Well, good. It’s about time.”

We drink our coffee and discuss the audit. I haven’t read that folder yet, so I dig around in the piles on my desk until I find it. I lift one pile and move it, exposing Persephone’s stone, sitting there on my desk.

“Where did you get that?” Hecate shouts, pointing.

“What are you talking about? This? Ione’s Eye?” I’m astonished by her vehemence.

Hecate’s face registers alarm and surprise. “Who told you it was called Ione’s  _ Eye _ ?”

“Persephone did. She loaned it to me.” 

“Oh!” Hecate’s relief is palpable.

“Why are you acting like this? She said it’s her good luck charm.” Something weird is going on here. I don’t like it.

Hecate looks dubious. “It  _ can _ bring good luck; it depends on the intentions of the giver. I suppose in this case there’s no need for concern about that. But she called it Ione’s Eye?”

“Yes.” I pause, trying to recall the story that Persephone told me weeks ago. “She told me a story about a sorceress who was forced into marriage, and gave her own eye to her lover, to protect both of them.”

Hecate looks distinctly amused, nodding in a condescending way. “Uh huh. So it didn’t strike you as odd that a sorceress being married against her will would protect herself by tearing out her  _ eye _ ?”

“What are you saying, then?” I’m getting annoyed. Hecate clearly isn’t implying any wrongdoing on Persephone’s part, but she’s dragging this out and enjoying it way too much.

“Ione’s spell didn’t take her eye. She tore out her own sex, so the husband she didn’t want couldn’t have her.”

This is a revelation, but as soon as Hecate says it I realize the story makes a lot more sense that way. I can see why Persephone would rather use the version she told me. Unless that’s how she heard it herself? “Do you think Persephone knows this?” I ask.

Hecate considers. “She’s a fertility goddess. This is some intense fertility magic. I think most likely she knows.”

Fertility magic? That puts another face on it. I look down at the stone in my hand. “What sort of magic?”

“It can be used for some powerful curses, but usually its function is protective, just as Ione used it to protect herself and her lover.”

I think it over. It could be that Persephone meant its protection for me. Somehow that doesn’t feel right, though. “Persephone gave it back to me yesterday. She said--” I think carefully, trying to remember her words. “She wanted me to hold it for her. She asked me to keep it safe.” I feel a sudden cold chill. 

Hecate watches me solemnly for a minute. “Where is she now?”

“She’s at the arts festival in Olympus. She said there was something she needed to finish. I’m supposed to see her later.” I’m nervously playing with the stone. 

“I think… we should go to Olympus now.”

***

Hecate and I arrive together in the largest public park in Olympus. It’s set up with tents and pavilions and rows of display stalls to one side, a concert stage to the other. We head into the visual arts area. I spot Psyche; she’s looking tense and nervous. “Hades!” she says, waving me down. “It is good you are here, I think Persephone needs you!”

“What’s going on? Where is she?”

“Come this way,” she says, and leads us into a long passage lined with temporary booths, places for artists to display their work. We’re walking fast through the crowds, and quickly we start to hear some commotion. We reach the open zone at the center of the display area.

Persephone waits there, tiny and defiant. She’s standing straight and calm, her hands at her sides, her eyes clear and wide, a slight smile on her lips. Red vines are twisting lazily around her head, sharp with thorns and threats.

Hecate taps me for attention and indicates one of the displays nearby. There’s a pedestal on top of which sits a small golden lyre, all its strings broken. The card reads: “Title of work: ‘Never Your Girl.’ Artist: Persephone.” I feel a cold wash of horror mixed with fervent admiration. I think I may understand what is going on.

Apollo is standing by the destroyed instrument, ranting and moaning to anyone who will listen. He turns and sees Persephone. “You stole my lyre, you psycho bitch!”

She smiles, the dangerous one I last saw in Vathia. “Yes. I did. I stole it, and I broke all the strings, one by one,” Persephone gloats. Her voice is low but pitched to carry. She is saturated with rage and berserk glee. “I enjoyed it very much. I was thinking next of taking an axe to it.” She advances towards him, slow and deliberate, and he unconsciously backs away.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You're out of your mind! I’ve never been anything but nice to you!” A crowd is starting to accumulate. I spot Zeus and Hera, and Athena and Hestia, among others.

“Nice?” Persephone is almost shouting now, making no effort to keep this conversation private. If anything, she’s playing to the crowd. “You call it ‘nice’ to come in my room when I’m sleeping? You call it ‘nice’ to wake me up and demand sex? You call it ‘nice’ to keep intimidating me until I gave in? You call it ‘nice’ to follow me around and harass me?” She pauses, her eyes glowing red, her hair visibly growing, her hands clenched. “I don’t know how you were raised. But where I come from, that’s not ‘nice.’”

Hecate grabs my arm firmly. I feel gutted. I want to cry. I wish I’d known, I wish I’d stopped it, I wish I’d helped her. She doesn’t need any help, though. I know that it’s very important to Persephone to handle her own problems, to be independent. She’s handling this problem, and she’s doing brilliantly. I want to cheer for her. 

Persephone begins to chant, and I recognize her words. It’s a language that was ancient even when I was born, and the words are ones that would make most immortals tremble to hear, assuming they could understand them. I have no idea how she knows this! A wind begins out of nowhere, bringing a biting cold and a gripping sense of dread. Her long, long hair whips and spirals around her. Across the crowd, I meet Zeus’s eyes. His face is clenched in a livid scowl.

"ܛᏉƺႫ ಓ ʬஎ ƣƪƺɣƺʬƺᦖ ϠϢϫ ʬʯ Ҩʄ ʯƫͼ юɣш ሗᏉႫ ಓ ሗᏉႫ ಓʬஎʬƺƕ ֏ƥܛƺਲ ʬઊ юɣш ѬଟƥՖ ʬƺƕ ֏ƥܛƺᦖ ϠϢϫҨ ʄʬʯ ሗᏉႫ ಓ ʬஎ ƣƪƺɣ!” Her voice is laced with discordant chimes and painful echoes. 

Eros breaks through the crowd and approaches. “This could get ugly,” I say. “You might want to be ready to get Psyche out of here.” He nods, and pulls her a little distance away, to the edge of the crowd.

Artemis runs up to Hecate and me. “What is she doing?” she cries. The wind is rising to a shriek.

“It’s a summoning,” Hecate replies reluctantly. 

Artemis looks wildly at me. “She’s summoning the Furies,” I tell her.

“ƫͼଟԳԾ Ֆ ʬƺƕ ֏ƥܛƺਲ ʬઊ юɣш Ѭଟ ƥƺᦖ ϠϢϫҨ ʄ ʬʯ ሗᏉႫ ಓ ʬஎ ƣƪƺɣ!”

“I’ve never heard of anyone  _ summoning  _ them!” She’s on the edge of panic. “What does it mean?”

“ਲʄԾ ʬઊ ಓƕ!”

“If the Furies are summoned then they come in their sternest aspect,” explains Hecate. “And they  _ will _ have a reckoning. If they judge the summoner’s case to be unworthy, then they will take it out of the summoner’s hide. Either way, they will have blood.”

“Can’t you stop this?” Artemis yells to me, over the howling wind.

“No. Nothing can stop this,” I tell her. I wouldn't stop it even if I could.

Zeus stomps up to me, dark with rage and crackling with lightning. “What the hell, Hades? Did you teach her this?”

“ಓਲʄԾ!”

“No,” I say. “I have no idea how she knows this.”

“ಓਲʄԾ!”

“She’s got some nerve pulling this kind of shit!”

Now this, I can help with. “You told her yourself that taking vengeance was permissible. I was there. Two other kings heard and witnessed.”

“ಓਲʄԾ!”  Persephone shouts. 

There’s a tremendous  _ crack _ and for a moment I can see nothing but the brightest white, stinging and overloading my eyes. My vision slowly fades back in. The people around me appear as vague, grayish shadows moving against the painfully bright white background. My eyes are watering, trying to squint and focus at the same time. The only color I can perceive is the red thorns in Persephone’s hair.

Another hideous noise accompanies the arrival of the Erinyes. The Furies, in their harshest mode, are dressed all in black and carry barbed whips in their hands and long knives sheathed on their hips. They are sharp, their teeth pointed, their eyes narrow and blackly vicious. Their snake hair writhes menacingly around their heads.

“We are summoned, as it was in ancient days,” proclaims Alecto.

“We come to extract justice and draw blood,” warns Megaera.

“Who calls the Erinyes?” challenges Tisiphone.

“It was I who summoned you,” says Persephone. “I have been wronged. My dignity and my peace were stolen from me. This man--” she points, and the utter contempt she feels is undeniable. “This man came into my room when I was asleep. He manipulated me into sex. He raped me and I demand justice. I want him to feel as frightened and helpless as I felt. I want him to be punished. I want him to be shamed.”

“You said yes, you stupid slut!” shouts Apollo. Hecate’s hand on my arm clamps down like a vise. I’m gritting my teeth so hard my jaw aches.

“I said  _ yes _ because you wouldn’t let me say anything else. Every time I have seen you since then, I have said  _ no _ , and  _ leave me alone _ , and  _ go away _ . You won’t listen to that either,” Persephone answers, low and calm. She’s visibly shaking, her eyes are deeply shadowed, and her long hair whips in the wind.

“Zeus!” shouts the sun god indignantly. “She’s just crazy, I didn’t do anything wrong! Can’t you stop this?”

Zeus frowns, folds his arms, and looks away. There’s not a damned thing he can do, and he knows it even if Apollo doesn’t.

“Are there any witnesses?” asks Alecto.

“I’m a witness,” says Eros. “Persephone showed me what happened. Everything was just as she described.”

“I’m a witness,” says Hera. “I saw the crime in a vision when I touched Persephone.” Zeus huffs an exasperated noise.

I’m opening my mouth to tell about how he behaved towards Persephone the night I dropped her off, but someone else speaks first.

“I’m a witness,” Artemis says, her voice low and pained. “He took pictures of her, and I stole his phone.” She digs around in her pocket, pulls out a phone, and hands it to Alecto. The other Furies crowd around and the three of them look at the screen together, swiping several times. Then the three of them huddle up and confer for several minutes. Everyone waits quietly, shuffling nervously. Persephone doesn’t move a muscle. Apollo is twitching and scowling; he keeps taking a breath as if to start speaking, then thinks better of it.

When the Furies separate, they strike up formal poses and spread out, Alecto in the center. She waits for a dramatic moment, and then holds Apollo’s phone out in front of her. She squeezes her hand around it, keeps squeezing, crushing, until it breaks into pieces. She brings her other hand up, squeezing and rubbing them together, until a fine gray dust sifts from her fingers. It’s gone. There’s a collective sigh from the crowd.

The three exchange a glance and smug smiles before rendering their judgment.

“We came to your summons, Goddess of Spring,” intones Megaera.

“We have weighed your accusation, Bringer of Death,” croons Tisiphone.

“We will do your bidding, Wielder of Justice,” vows Alecto. "This man shall not cease to suffer until he feels true remorse."

“No!” yells Apollo. “You can’t do this!” The Furies converge rapidly around him. “You have no right--”

All four disappear with a blinding flash and another percussive blast. Persephone wobbles on her feet, and raises one hand to her head, as if she has a terrible headache. I start to approach her slowly. I can hear Hera consoling a sobbing Artemis. “Come on, dear, let’s get out of here,” she says.

Hecate is moving around the crowd, encouraging people to move on, to make some space. Persephone’s still wavering on her feet, holding her head in both hands now. All at once her knees give out and she collapses. I kneel down next to her, close, but not close enough to frighten her.

“Kore?” She doesn’t respond. She’s quivering, her eyes open and fixed on the ground. In her crumpled position her long, long hair covers her almost completely. “Sweetness, I’m here. Look, I brought the stone.” I hold out Ione’s Eye--whatever it is. It doesn't matter; it’s meaningful to her. “I kept it safe, like you asked.” My voice catches. It isn’t a stone that needed to be kept safe. It isn’t a long-dead sorceress. It’s the goddess in front of me.

I hold the stone where she can see. At first there’s no reaction, no change in her brittle demeanor. Then there’s a slight hitch in her breath and her hand tentatively reaches out. She hesitates, but then she closes her hand over the stone and my fingers too, gripping quite fiercely. I squeeze back, and immediately she starts to move, scrambling up onto her knees and throwing her arms around my shoulders.

I wrap my arms around her. “Would you like me to take you home?” I ask. She nods against my shoulder, and I pick her up carefully. She holds tight to me, and I transfer right into Eros and Psyche’s living room. It’s quiet here, and I feel immediate relief.

I carry Persephone over to a large chair, grabbing a blanket that’s draped over the back of the couch. I sit down with her in my lap, and wrap the blanket around her. Her shivering intensifies. I hold her tightly and murmur soft nonsense.

We stay like that for a long time. Gradually, her trembling diminishes and then stops, and she seems to relax somewhat. I’m still holding her, rubbing her shoulders sometimes, or stroking her hair.

The door bangs open and I reflexively clutch Persephone to my chest. My teeth clench. I turn to see who’s making such a disturbance and am unsurprised that it’s Zeus, followed by Hera. Wonderful. Just what Persephone needs. Her face is still turned into my shoulder, and she’s tucked into the blanket. They won’t be able to see much of her.

“What do you want?” I ask quietly. _ I _ want them to go away. What is he thinking?

“Who the hell is going to do the sun thing now? Huh? Did you think of that, missy? No? Just thinking of yourself, I guess?” He’s really worked himself into a shitty mood.

“This is not the time, Zeus!” I’m not in that great a mood, myself.

“I don’t give a shit! Do you know how bad this makes us all look?” he yells.

“You’re worried about your image, now? What the fuck is wrong with you?” I’m trying to keep control of my volume. Persephone hasn’t moved at all, but she’s starting to quiver again.

“Somebody’s got to keep an eye on public relations. You’re obviously too obsessed with your little  _ friend _ to see the big picture.”

“You’re just being pissy because this situation points out your lack of control in your own realm. This whole thing never should have happened!” I snarl. I’m strongly considering transferring home with Persephone right now. Or maybe something more drastic, my asshole brother has it coming.

Hera chooses this moment to intervene, sharp-voiced: “I actually think you should worry  _ more _ about your image, Zeus. Bullying twenty-year-old girls is not a good look.” 

For some reason this knocks the wind out of Zeus. He glares at Hera for a moment, and then sighs deeply, groans in frustration, and retreats to near the door. 

Hera looks at me. I’m having a hard time deciphering her expression, but she’s upset and masking it well, as she generally does. “Is she awake?” she asks.

Persephone is shivering rather violently, and her fingers are firmly dug into my shoulders.

“I don’t think so,” I lie. Hera nods, and goes out, taking Zeus with her.

Minutes pass and I just hold Persephone tightly. I wish I could think of something to say to make her feel better. I wish I could do anything at all for her.

“Are they gone?” she asks softly.

“Yes, they went outside,” I tell her. I squeeze her tighter and stroke her hair. Anything to let her know how I feel about her.

“I wanted to tell you,” she whispers against my neck. Her trembling is even more intense than before. She’s choking out her words. “And also I didn’t. I didn’t want to ever talk about it again because that made it more real. But most of all--” She pauses, losing control of her breathing, panting in an effort to hold back sobs. I cup the back of her head, kiss her temple, rock her back and forth. My heart aches for her. I would give anything to take away her pain. “Most of all I was a-a-afraid of disappointing you.” 

Her sobs spill over, her whole body wracked with spasms. I squeeze as tight as I dare, rock vigorously. “You could never disappoint me, Kore. Never!”

A wail of agony is escaping her throat, despite the obvious effort she’s making to hold it back. I can’t stand this, it’s like a sword through my guts. I pull her away from my shoulder, look into her eyes. Her tears are flowing freely. I lean my forehead against hers. “Listen to me, little goddess. I love you. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you! You are the brilliant goddess who created beauty in my realm. You are the magnificent goddess who saved me from betrayal and treason. You are the splendid goddess who owns my heart.”

She hides her face again in my shoulder. “I’m not a virgin—”

“Kore! Do you think that matters? The only thing I’m upset about is that you were hurt. I’m devastated for you, for the pain and fear you’ve gone through. I’m enraged on your behalf, but you don’t need that, do you? Your rage was enough. I love you, Persephone, I love you for who you are. I love your courage and your wit and your kindness and your ferocity.” 

She swallows a sob and pants a bit, struggling to regain control. “I mean it,” I say, touching her cheek. “I’ve waited my whole life for you and I won’t lose you.”

She looks up to meet my eyes, and I cup her face gently, brushing away tears with my thumbs. She takes a few deep breaths and gulps again. Her panting slows and she’s a little calmer. Her hand enters my field of vision and she brushes her fingers over my cheek. 

“I love you,” I say firmly. I think she needs to hear it again.

“I love you, too,” she answers, her voice thick. Then she kisses me. Her lips are salty with her tears and she’s desperate for contact, grabbing my shoulders hard. She’s still shaking a little, and she kisses me over and over, becoming more frantic as she goes on. Her frenzy is starting to concern me. 

“It’s all right. Slow down, Sweetness. It’s okay. I’m not going away.” I reassure her between kisses. Finally she stops, breathless, and I pull her into a deep hug, rubbing her back and shoulders.

“I should have told you,” she whimpers. “I’m sorry!”

“You tried to, didn’t you? Yesterday you said you had something else to tell me and I encouraged you to wait.” I stroke her hair, try to gather its length to keep it from pulling and getting tangled. “Please don’t feel guilty. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

I hear muffled talking, and the sound of the door opening quietly behind me.

“Ah, here they are,” says Eros.

Persephone sighs softly.

Eros and Psyche come into the living room, and check on Persephone. “Hey,” says Eros. “You okay?”

“I think so,” she answers. 

“Okay. We’re here if you need us.” They depart down the hall together.

Persephone wraps her arms around me and buries her face in my shoulder. After a couple of minutes, she speaks again. “Do you want to hear about it?”

I consider. “If you want to talk, then I want to listen. But please don’t push yourself.”

She’s quiet so long that I think maybe she’s gone to sleep. When she speaks, it’s so soft I can barely hear her, even though her mouth is only inches from my ear. “It was that night we first talked on the phone,” she says.

I think back on it. “When you were so sad.” I hug her tightly. I wish I’d known then. She didn’t have to suffer alone.

“Thank you for being there for me. I really needed that.” She’s squeezing me back.

“I--” I want to tell her I would be happy to do violence on her behalf, but there’s no point. She’s strong enough to do it herself. “I wish I could have done more. But if it helped, I’m glad.”

I hear Eros and Psyche talking, their voices getting louder as they approach the living room. Persephone, listening too, suddenly jerks to attention.

“Did someone mention pizza?” she calls.

Eros laughs, coming into the room. “Yeah, we thought we’d call out, I guess you’re interested then?”

“Yes!” Persephone is very enthusiastic. “Do you like pizza?” she asks me.

“Sure,” I reply. Her change of mood is infectious.

“I never had pizza before I came here,” she explains.

“Neither did I,” adds Psyche.

“They’re both making up for lost time,” Eros informs me, and I chuckle.

Persephone is struggling with her hair; it’s so long that some of it is under her, and maybe under me too. I start to help her gather it up.

“Psyche, can you help me with this?” she asks.

“Of course.” The two of them go off together down the hall. 

Eros is perusing a take-out menu. “You want anything in particular?” he asks.

“No, I’m not inclined to be fussy.” There’s a slight noise, and I look around curiously. Someone else to barge in?

"Ah, look who's back!" Eros points. I turn and see Cerberus, who comes over to greet me.

"He visits often?" I ask, petting my dog.

"Yup, all the time. He's not so bad for a dog the size of a pony."

I chuckle, since this is actually Cerberus's extra-small version. He's looking around anxiously. "She went that way, boy," I tell him.

I meet Eros's eyes. "He likes Persephone better than me at this point," I say.

"Huh. And you're okay with that?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, man, because you're  _ you _ and that dog is part of your image?" he shrugs.

I shake my head, smiling. I suppose Persephone hasn't divulged details on what happened in Vathia, because if he knew I let her use my bident it'd blow his mind.

Eros places a huge order for delivery and doesn’t argue when I offer to pay. 

Persephone returns soon with her hair shorn very short, with a tuft at the front. It's aggressively cute on her. She snuggles back in my lap.

"How mad is your brother, really?" she asks once Eros and Psyche have gone into the kitchen.

"That's hard to say. He was plenty pissed just now but he doesn't always stay pissed. I'm figuring on giving him some space and let Hera work on him."

She nods but she still looks worried.

"Hey--you got his permission in advance. He may be angry, but he'll get over it." I nuzzle her cheek. "I'll make sure of it, okay?"

"Okay." She nuzzles me back and then kisses me. I respond in kind and she sighs happily, her hands gently touching my neck and jaw. This feels horribly self-indulgent on my part, given what Persephone's gone through today, but she's definitely into it: she’s starting to generate some tiny blue flowers in her hair. Just a few, but it’s clear that she feels a bit better. She wraps her arms around me and deepens the kiss, and I go with it.

***

It’s very late when I leave Eros and Psyche’s house. I step outside after spending almost an hour saying good night to Persephone, feeling the bittersweet pain of leaving her, the sorrow of knowing what I know now, and the overwhelming joy of finally having her as my own. What a jumbled stew of emotions.

There’s someone standing in the shadows by the road. Waiting for me. I stop, wondering what this is, and Alecto steps forward into the faint light from the house’s windows.

“Good evening, Hades,” she says. “I have spoken with my sisters. Our contract with you is done. It said we would serve you until the coming of  _ Archétypo Dikaiosýnis _ . That time has come.”

Well, this is unexpected. “You believe Persephone is your Archetype of Justice?”

“She is. We have long suspected it, but now we’re sure.” Alecto’s voice rings with certainty. “Do you know, we have not been summoned in more than a thousand years? It is a glorious thing for us. And we have never felt an anger as righteous and pure as Persephone’s before. We wish to claim her as our mistress. We wish to call her  _ sister _ before gods and men. We shall hail her as Praxidike.”

“What will this mean, Alecto?”

“If she will have us, we will serve her, from now until the end of time. We’ll still work for you, but you should know, if it comes down to a conflict, we will obey Persephone.”

Somehow this strikes me as right and perfect. I’m starting to smile. “Then I have orders for you and your sisters,” I tell her. “Which will not conflict with Persephone’s instructions. Twist the knife, Alecto. Twist it good and hard. Do it for her. Make him  _ suffer _ .”

Alecto’s answering grin is savage. “We will obey.” She fades away, leaving me alone in the calm Olympian night.

No matter what else, from this day forward Persephone will have the Furies to watch her back. I can feel the shifting of destiny, as if the Fates were moving the scenery behind us: transforming, reorienting, initiating a new era. The tiny goddess whom I love is far more significant than anyone understands. I bare my teeth in ferocious pleasure.

**Author's Note:**

> The song Hades sings is "Skylark" originally by Hoagy Carmichael. I recommend the Aretha Franklin version.
> 
> The “Ancient text" Persephone chants is gibberish. I originally wanted to use Linear A, which is an undeciphered pictogram-based proto-Greek/Minoan language, but couldn't use it because of technical limitations. Instead, I chose individual characters from various writing systems that had the right flavor. This feels a bit like appropriation, and I apologize for that. Take a look at [Linear A](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Linear_A), if you're interested, it's much prettier.
> 
> Thanks once again to Red for beta reading and suggestions. You're the best!


End file.
